


What's Good for the Goose

by innie



Category: Better Off Ted
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/pseuds/innie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an angry goose at Veridian.  But there's a reason for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Good for the Goose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fiddlingfrog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddlingfrog/gifts).



Little as they thought of themselves as a team, the four of them jumped back in unison when the goose hissed malevolently and emphatically in their general direction. 

Ted tried to make a shield out of his body. Then he tried not to care that Dr. Bhamba was the one taking advantage of the protection he offered, not Veronica or Linda. Veronica had landed sooner than the rest of them, and was considering the goose with an appraising eye. Linda, meanwhile, had discerned that the bird looked to be in some distress, and thus was advancing gingerly toward the unhappy fowl and crooning what she hoped were goosey sounds of compassion and empathy. 

Ted reached for her but was hampered by Dr. Bhamba's flailing. Veronica appeared to be willing to let Linda act as the canary in the mineshaft. And so Linda was the one to get a faceful of precious stone when the goose let loose one last castigating honk and coughed up what had been lodged in its throat. 

*

It probably should have struck the others as suspicious that Dr. Bhamba recovered his equilibrium so quickly. "Ahhhh, " he intoned, "a blue carbuncle."

Linda scrunched up her face at the unfamiliar term, vaguely thinking that the word sounded unpleasantly biological. Like the thing that had nearly put her in an eyepatch for a week was a goiter instead of a really pretty jewel. 

Veronica's mind had also strayed to the anatomical. "That thing?" she scoffed. "It's nowhere near as impressive as Ted's carbuncles." This pronouncement caused Ted to feel both staggeringly virile and a little like a piece of furniture marked by a housecat as part of its territory. 

"Wait," he said, turning to face Dr. Bhamba. "Are you quoting Sherlock Holmes?"

"Nooo," said Dr. Bhamba. For such a seasoned scapegoat, he had a surprisingly terrible facility for telling lies convincingly. "Why would I want to bring the joy of the Great Detective's celebrated Christmas case to our place of work? Why would I wish to bring a smile to the faces of these lovely ladies?"

Linda, torn between comforting the still-wheezing goose and smiling at Dr. Bhamba, laid a hand on each of them. Veronica, meanwhile, stepped forward and crushed the gem under one of her awe-inspiring heels. If the other three (and the goose) incidentally happened to appreciate the vigorous and yet sensuous movements of her silk-over-steel calves, only the goose was brave enough to let loose a sound of approval. 

"Are carbuncles supposed to grind down to a fine powder like that?" Ted queried.

"Yeah, no," said Linda. 

Veronica looked triumphant. "Explain yourself," she ordered Dr. Bhamba. "And do it without any Seuss."

*

"You remember that accident in the lab a few weeks ago?" Dr. Bhamba asked, settling in and setting the stage like a seasoned raconteur. 

"The one that left Lem without any glasses frames and turned Phil blue?" Ted clarified. 

"We'd been searching for that blue for years," Veronica said dreamily. "Just the perfect shade to connote soothing skies, calming waters, and the inevitable necessity of erection-boosting drugs."

"Instead of hauling poor blue Phil in front of the board that froze him to color-match his skin, you could have just turned on the TV," Linda pointed out. "He was the color of a smurf."

"I'm sorry, did you say TV or time machine?" Dr. Bhamba said, thrilled to be joking around with his colleagues. It was not his last mistake. It was, however, the one that got the ball rolling. 

*

"You did _what_?" Ted asked.

Linda needed no clarification. "You force-fed this poor goose a blue carburetor just to impress the bigwigs?"

"Yeah, what was the endgame here?" Ted wanted to know.

"Not all the bigwigs. Just her."

"I'm not wearing a wig," Veronica said. "And I no longer require suitors to devise some byzantine method of murder if they want my phone number."

"I wasn't trying to kill it!" Dr. Bhamba protested, aghast. 

Linda caught on the quickest. "Oh. You were gonna wait for the bird to poop it out. Like the stupid version of the goose that laid the golden egg. Eww."

"Well, let's set the record straight," Ted said. "You prefer your jewels not to be smeared with excrement, right? Or have I misjudged you all these years?"

Veronica was glowing. "I like them clean, alimentary-canal free, and cheap to manufacture. I want a detailed outline of the process you used to make the carbuncle on my desk by the end of business today. Every jewelry store in every mall in America's going to stock Veridian gems. Every manicurist is going to press them into the nails of the bored and wealthy. And they have the right consistency to act as a meal-replacement powder. Good work, team!"

But that was when the goose, tired of waiting for the speeches to end, flew at Dr. Bhamba and initiated some payback.

"Looks like his goose is cooked," Ted said, hustling the ladies out of the room. Linda laughed, but Veronica lingered to watch the beatdown. Ted smiled at them both, then wondered how he was going to explain any of this to Rose.


End file.
